


Strange Brew

by qaffangyrl



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: M/M, admission of feelings, canon inspired product-placement, pre-first time, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qaffangyrl/pseuds/qaffangyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I don’t want to get benched just because you’ve got a recurring role in my jerk-off fantasies.” </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Brew

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Teen Wolf fic. OMG what has this show done to me.

Stiles stood in the half-lit hallway with an awkwardly wrapped package in hand as he tried to muster the courage to knock on the door. Trouble is, surprising a werewolf is pretty much an exercise in futility. 

He sucked in a deep breath as the large metal door slid open. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked. His ever present grimace faltered slightly.

“I uh, well… I thought that… since you’re settling in to your new place,” Stiles peaked over Derek’s shoulder in to the large loft space, “which is awesome, by the way... Do you get free wifi in this building?” 

Derek’s furrowing brow cued Stiles to get focus on the task at hand. 

“Oh yeah, I brought you a house warming gift.” Stiles offered the jar wrapped in tissue paper. Derek took it and looked at it quizzically.

“Anise seeds?” He didn’t need to unwrap the present to know what was inside.

“Anise seed tea,” Stiles corrected.”Scott says that alcohol doesn’t have any effect on you guys, but I’ve read Anise seeds are kind of like catnip for… do’- I mean, uh canine type creatures,” Stiles hedged. He’d learned the hard way not to refer to werewolves as dogs.

Derek ripped the paper off in swift, somewhat absent move and stared at the glass jar of loose tea. “You made this?” He shifted slightly and silently gestured for Stiles to come inside his apartment. 

“Yeah!” Stiles responded. His voice about a half octave higher than usual. He coughed slightly and continued in what he hoped was a more masculine tone, “I found the recipe in a Wiccan cookbook we gave mom for her birthday a few years back.” 

“She practiced?” Derek asked as he turned to go to the kitchen. He could usually sense witches. But, Stiles had never given off any scent that indicated he had inherited a penchant for the Craft.

Stiles followed behind Derek, nearly tripping over a shoelace as he replied, “No. no. Not that sort of thing, it was just, near the end, when the meds stopped working, she got kind of into herbal remedies. Natural stuff, ya know?”

Derek nodded. He could hear the pain in Stiles’ voice and worried the jar in his hands as he tried to think of something to say. “I remember your mother. From before—she sat on the governing board of the Preserve with my Mom and Aunt. I think they were friends. Or friendly at least.” 

Stiles scratched the back of his neck then pointed to the jar. “There’s an infuser inside. You up for having a cup with me?” He didn’t really have it in him to process that knowledge that their mothers might have known each other once upon a time. Stiles had experienced too many revelations of late. Today wasn’t about that, though. Today was about making sure Derek knew that Stiles was all in when it came to keeping his friends and Beacon Hills safe. He wasn’t going to let these new feelings he was having keep him from protecting the people he cared about. It’s not like crushing on a dude _who’s way too old, and not even human_ was important when people’s lives could be at stake. 

“Sure.” Derek’s back was still to Stiles. He pulled a teapot out of a Macy’s bag on the kitchen counter and two new mugs; a happy coincidence that he’d just returned home from buying some kitchen essentials at the mall. He spooned the tea into the metallic mesh ball then put the kettle on the stove. His actions were slow and deliberate, as if he was half-dazed in anticipation to taste the tea, “I can’t believe you knew about this tea.” 

“Just a lucky guess.” Stiles shrugged.

Derek turned to face Stiles and shook his head. “No. you’re smart. And you think things through. Scott’s lucky to have you as a friend. I won’t stand in the way of that. You’re an asset. You’ve proven that more than once.” 

“I’ve saved your ass a time or two, if I recall,” Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. He hoped his bravado would cover up the way his heart fluttered at Derek’s compliments. 

Derek bit back a smile. “I give credit where it’s due. And I’d invite you to sit down but I don’t really have any furniture yet." 

“I’m used to your minimalist taste in décor.” 

***

The tea was taking effect. Stiles couldn’t remember ever seeing Derek so relaxed. He wasn’t intoxicated but, the invisible weight that always carried on his shoulders seems to have lifted, “Do you like the tea? I wasn’t sure about all the ingredients. The lady at Trader Joe’s helped me out with picking the right stuff from the recipe. And then I had to buy this mallet thing to crush some of the bigger-"

“I do,” Derek interrupted. He’d learned that there was no point in waiting for Stiles to pause to let him answer a question. “We used to have this during the holidays. Sort of like wassail or eggnog for us.” It was as if the tea was allowing him to travel back in time without the painful feelings of loss. 

“If you run out, I can make more. Anytime.” Stiles replied. He wished he’s swiped some of his dad’s whiskey so he could spike his own tea with some liquid courage. This was the longest amount of time Derek and Stiles had ever spent to together where one or both of their lives weren’t in danger. And he figured that since Derek had yet to threaten to rip his throat out with the visit was going well. After a few beats of slightly awkward silence Stiles downed the rest of his still too hot tea. His body involuntarily jerked as the liquid burned as he swallowed. 

“You okay?” Derek knew Stiles was fine. But, he asked nonetheless. 

“I’m good. Good. Real good.” Stiles assured. “And I guess I should get on with saying what I came here to say.” He put his hand up against his chest- knowing that his body was betraying him. It was even worse at keeping quiet around a werewolf than he himself was. 

Derek made an attempt at offering a welcoming smile.

“I just wanted to thank you.” 

“There’s no need to-"

This time Stiles interrupted Derek. “Not for the protecting us from big bads that are even scarier and more psychotic than your uncle. Although, thanks for that too.” Stiles straighten his shoulders and stood tall as he continued “I came here, today, to thank you for not making fun of me.” 

“Why would I make fun of you?” Derek guessed where this was going. But, he was genuinely surprised that the boy had the courage to discuss it. 

“I know you can smell it. Smell me. Smell the way I feel when I’m around you. I don’t know when it started exactly. And if I could control it I would. And I’m sure it’s totally obnoxious. And I just wanted tell you that I’m trying to get a handle on it. And I wanted to thank you for not letting things get weird between us, I mean weirder than it always has-“Stiles stopped rambling when Derek stepped into his space. 

They stood just a breath between each other. In a near whisper Derek said, “You’re not obnoxious. And it doesn’t bother me. In fact, I’m… flattered.” 

“But?” Stiles, asked. _He’s flattered?_

“I can’t be the person, who takes things from you that you can’t get back.” 

_Okay, what the hell does he mean by that? Could Derek be interested in me too? Is that even possible? And if it is, how exactly would that ever work?_

“Derek, I didn’t come here to ask for anything. It’s just, you and the pack have been keeping to yourselves and I thought maybe, that was because my hormones or pheromones or whatever were distracting you. And I don’t want to get benched just because you’ve got a recurring role in my jerk-off fantasies.” 

For a split second Derek’s eyes flashed red. “Stiles, I’m the Alpha. It’s my job to protect people. Not yours.” 

“That’s just it Derek, I know how dangerous things are. And, how things are probably going to get worse before they get better. And you just said a minute ago that you know I’m an asset.” 

Derek set his mug down on the kitchen counter. He was still standing in Stiles’ space, but he tried to reel back his emotions. He’d thought Stiles was here because ever since the night Lydia gave Jackson’s key back to him, Stiles’ constant state of arousal had shifted focus. But, it seemed the boy, despite his teenaged desire, was asking to be part of the fight. Humans didn’t have the luxury of lying to werewolves. Derek figured, it was only fair that he was honest with Stiles. _Even if it was only the tea that was allowing him to do so._

“You are an asset, Stiles. I mean it. And I meant it too, when I said that your scent flatters me. But, when I said it doesn’t bother me, that wasn’t the truth.”

Stiles’ face fell.

Derek rested his hand on the side of Stiles’s neck in an effort to reassure him.“It’s not in the way you think, though. “If things were different, if you were older, and we weren’t always under threat of attack, then maybe… But as it is, having you around, means I’m off my game. I can’t take care of my pack when you’re around.”

“Why not?” 

“Because, when you’re around, all I can think about is what it’d feel like to be inside you.” 

***

Dereks words swam in Stiles’ head. He’d jerked off three times already and he still couldn’t get to sleep. Derek wanted him. But according to Derek, Stiles was about as useful as a bouquet of Wolfsbane. He figured, the best he could do now was help _steer_ his dad’s investigation in a direction that would keep him safe and also hopefully help keep the Alpha pack from causing too much trouble.

It’s all he could do. For now, anyway…

The End (perhaps).


End file.
